Wednesday, December 10, 2008

I refuse therefore I am



The one thing that I learnt in B-school is how to legitimize your plagiarism. It is a bit complex process. Let me explain it step-by-step.
  1. Copy
  2. Paste
  3. Mention references

I mean, let's face it, I intend to showcase gems from some of the best names in Urdu literature (at least I think so), so obviously these shaayaris (or ash-aar as they call it in Urdu) are not mine. But this once, even some of the translation I have copy-pasted. Albeit, I will mention the reference in the foot-note.

This is another Pakistani Shaayar. Much the same in spirit but his pen is sharper, his verse angrier, his poetry bordering on zealotry. Habib Jalib, my friends, breathes fire, and how.

The poem is known as Dastoor = The System.

दीप जिस का महेल्लात ही मे जले,
चंद लोगों की खुशिओं को ले कर चले,
वो जो साए मैं हर मसलेहत के पले;
ऐसे दस्तूर को,
सुबह-ऐ-बेनूर को,
मैं नहीं मानता,
मैं नहीं जानता.
DIp jis ka mehellaat hi main jale,
Chand logon ki khushion ko le kar chale,
Wo jo saaye main har maslehat ke pale;
Aise dastoor ko,
Subh-e-benoor ko,
Main nahIn maanta,
Main nahIn jaanta.

The light which shines only in palaces
Which is concerned only with vested interests
Which flourishes in the shadows of conspiracies,
Such a system (is)
like a dawn without light
(which) I refuse to acknowledge
I refuse to accept.

मे भी खा’इफ नहीं तख्ता-ऐ-दार से,
मे भी मंसूर हूँ, कह दो अघ्यार से,
क्यूँ डराते हो जिन्दान की दीवार से,
ज़ुल्म की बात को,
जहल की रात को,
मैं नहीं मानता,
मैं नहीं जानता.
Main bhee kha’if nahIn takhta-e-daar se,
Main bhee Mansoor hoon, keh do aghyaar se,
Kyun daraate ho zindaan ki divaar se,
Zulm ki baat ko,
Jahl ki raat ko,
Main naheen maanta,
Main naheen jaanta.
I am not afraid of the noose of executioner,
Declare to the world that I am a martyr
Why you attempt to frighten me with these prison walls?
This overhanging doom,
this night of ignorance,
I refuse to acknowledge,
I refuse to accept

फूल शाखों पे खिलने लगे तुम कहो,
जाम रिन्दों को मिलने लगे तुम कहो,
चाक सीनों के सिलने लगे तुम कहो,
इस खुले झूट को,
जेहन की लूट को,
मैं नहीं मानता,
मैं नहीं जानता.
Phool shaakhon pe khilne lage tum kaho,
Jaam rindon ko milne lage tum kaho,
Chak seenon ke silne lage tum kaho,
Is khule jhooth ko,
Zehan ki loot ko,
Main naheen maanta,
Main naheen jaanta.

“Flowers are budding on branches”, that’s what you say,
“Every cup overflows”, that’s what you say,
“Wounds of hearts are healing”, that’s what you say,
These bare-face lies,
this robbery of thought,
I refuse to acknowledge,
I refuse to accept

तुम ने लूटा है सदीओं हमारा सुकून,
अब न हम पर चलेगा तुम्हारा फसूं,
चारागर मैं तुम्हें किस तरह से कहूं?
तुम नहीं चारागर,
कोई माने मगर,
मैं नहीं मानता,
मैं नहीं जानता।
Tum ne loota hai sadion hamaara sakoon,
Ab na hum per chale ga tumhaara fasoon,
Chaaraa gar main tumhain kiss tara se kahoon?
Tum naheen charaagar,
Koi maane magar,
Main naheen maanta,
Main naheen jaanta.
For centuries you have all stolen our peace of mind
But your power over us is coming to an end
Why should I think you are a healer?
You are not a healer
Maybe others accept this (lie)
(but) I refuse to accept,
I refuse to acknowledge.

Now close home, Javed Akhtar also has a poem on similar lines. Though that poem is in general about people trading acceptance of harsh realities against some comforting illusions. But that is a discussion for another day.

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